


a moment of stillness

by sweetvampire



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetvampire/pseuds/sweetvampire
Summary: Daniel muses on relationships, and how things have changed. Daniel/others (historic) and Daniel/unnamed male character (present). Ace and aro spectrum Daniel, who doesn't really get why people make such a big deal about the whole thing.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Other(s)
Kudos: 2





	a moment of stillness

He wasn’t the first. Of course he wasn’t.

Daniel might not have said anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of what people said or how they looked at him when they thought he wasn’t paying attention.

Of course he knew. How could he not? The quiet jokes, the little embarrassed giggles from some and the filthy looks he’d get from others; sometimes from a guy who knew his girl had the hots for a weird bookish linguist with glasses, sometimes from another guy who couldn’t do more than admire the view without fearing court martial.

It annoyed him sometimes. The first few years, he spent most of his time wanting to yell at them and swear and scream until they took their longing eyes elsewhere, because he was _married_ , for god’s sakes, didn’t that mean anything to them? He’d had a home and a wife and now home was a destroyed cinder in the desert and she was missing, presumed snake. He was not available; not for their flirtation, not for their consumption or desires or anything other than a polite colleague interaction or a friendship if they were lucky and pleasant people.

Sometimes, it was useful; when a smile and a wistful look can get you past locked doors and keys and codes to the one piece of information that you need, you learn to use it to your advantage quickly. He’d worked that one out very early on - he hadn’t even left the care system at that point, he was just a high school kid with glasses and a too-small t-shirt deliberately chosen so the girl from his year who worked secretary on Thursdays would let him see his History grade and “accidentally” leave the room for five minutes. (He’d aced the test, but the old bastard knew he hadn’t studied for it, so refused to give him the A. It was the work of a moment to bring his GPA up to where it belonged.)

It scared him occasionally, when he realised quite how much he could do just because according to a weird collision of societal rules and genetics he was considered pretty to look at - and how nasty people could become when they realised that the friendly (if a little socially awkward) guy who studied something weird and niche in the history and archaeology department wasn’t the least bit interested in anything other than _literally_ going for a drink. People acted like they were being denied something they had rights to when he never belonged to them - to anyone.

He wasn't the first. Until Daniel noticed something new: _he’d_ been the one to be interested first.

For once he’d had the chance to be the person who stared longingly and hastily looked away, the one who blushed and stumbled over his words and felt his heart lighten whenever the other man gave him a smile.

The few times before when people had been close at his choosing, he’d picked them on something unrelated to himself - how they treated the person who made them coffee, whether they were nice to their undergrads, or similar. He unerringly ended up with people who were lovely and kind and gentle and good conversationally and not at all what he wanted from a relationship; he suspected that things falling apart was in large part down to the partners getting jealous, or - on one memorable occasion - realising that he didn’t really love them. Oh, sure, he liked them; he wouldn’t have asked them to dinner, or drinks, or back to his apartment, if he hadn’t. Found them attractive? Well, no-one had ever complained that he’d neglected their needs, so he took that to mean that he’d fucked them satisfactorily, and even if that wasn’t the question at hand it was a workable response for now. But love? He hadn’t ever been able to understand why people talked about it so much.

Sha’re - in a quiet, inarticulate but entirely correct understanding - had more or less agreed that neither of them were particularly in love with the other, whatever that meant, but they were close friends, and they were quite happy living as husband and wife, thank you very much.

But this was… new. He might not have been the first partner to be Daniel’s friend first and above all else, and he definitely wasn’t the first boy. But they fitted together, in a way he’d barely noticed at first; it was like some part of him had gone _oh, it’s you_ , and things had fallen into place.

Daniel wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.


End file.
